His Father's Son
by around4oclock
Summary: A pair of short stories written for a future AU where Vegeta survived the androids and raised Trunks instead of Bulma. Written for Stupidoomdoodles on Tumblr. Warning: Feels and angst... this story is full of it.
1. Part 1

Author Note: This is a two part short story I wrote for Stupidoomdoodles over on Tumblr. Inspired by the idea of an AU where Vegeta survived the androids and raised (future) Trunks instead of Bulma.

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Like many days before this one, today he had stared down the synthetic creatures he was sure would one day be the death of him and defiantly told them not today. Vegeta was fairly certain at this point his opinion on his survival didn't matter and that the androids kept letting him live because they found his attempts to stop them amusing. Most of the planet had already been scorched with death, and these days it was just him and the boy left standing between the androids and humanity's extinction.

 _"It's been nearly twenty years and you still haven't managed to purge one measly planet of life." He'd mocked as those robotic ice blue eyes watched him like hungry animals, "You two would have made piss poor planet trade soldiers."_

 _"Well maybe we wouldn't have had to draw the entertainment out so long if some bitch hadn't destroyed every means of space travel on this archaic planet, stranding us here with your sorry ass!" The female one had barked irritated._

 _"Space is over rated" Vegeta had merely shrugged._

The truth was though that there had been many times he'd wished that there'd been at least one capsule corp ship left for him and Trunks to escape in and leave this doomed planet to rust with those damned killing machines. As he rested a hand on the crumbling doorframe of what was left of the Capsule Corp complex, Vegeta wondered if Bulma had known she'd be stranding him and their son in this hell when she'd programmed the self-destruction of the only human spacecrafts capable of getting the androids to another life bearing planet to be triggered by her own death. With a heavy breath he pounded a fist on the rudimentary intercom Trunks' had installed as a safety measure.

"Brat, open the damned vault door, I'm coming down." He hissed through the pain of his broken ribs and made his way towards the shelter's dead bolted doors.

The Androids were growing bored of him. One of these days they'd likely decide that leaving him unconscious as they killed another city wasn't worth the bother and he wouldn't wake up again to broken bones, choking on his own blood, but instead to hell fire. Sometimes he thought it would be better off that way. As the thought crossed his mind the heavy thud of the vault doors opening brought his thoughts back to why he didn't just give in to the temptation of death. He'd promised her as she'd lain dead in his arms that he'd protect and raise the boy who now looked at him with those same worried blue eyes his mother had once had.

"You struck a nerve with 18 again didn't you?" Trunks said with half hearted smirk as he inspected the freshest battle wounds, assessing how much of their limited supplies it would take to bandage up his father this time. "You know, if you keep taunting her like that it's going to get you killed. She's got a temper almost as nasty as yours."

"Fucking toaster had it coming." Vegeta grunted as his son made him remove his hand from his ribs so he could get a better look, not bothering to mention that he'd nearly lost it himself when the shebot had started talking shit about his deceased lover.

"Common, let's get you inside so I can fix you up." Trunks sighed knowingly as he pulled his father's weight to lean on him. Usually Vegeta would resist and claim he could walk fine on his own, but today he let the child have it his way. Today his body was demanding he acknowledge that it was getting older and no longer was as thrilled with his routine of daily beatings as it used to be.

This was clearly noticed by Trunks, though he didn't dare make any comment as he lead them back down into the vault, closing the multiple layers of protection behind them as they retreated into the only structurally sound remaining portion of the once great Capsule Corp Empire. The bunker had been Trunk's home since he was a baby and while it wasn't the most luxuriously furnished living quarters, it had self generated electricity and a decent size laboratory filled with the company's catalog of blueprints, among which were many of the last remaining traces of the mother he'd never known. There was also a sparse pantry, a simple kitchen, an open makeshift sleeping quarters and of course on his father's insistence, a training room with Trunks' own rudimentary version of his mother's design for a gravity simulator.

Trunks lead his father to the kitchen and left him propped against the counter as he went to grab the medical kit. By the time he'd returned Vegeta had already forced his own ribs back into place and rinsed most of the blood off himself with the kitchen sink. They both finished cleaning and bandaging the wounds in comfortable silence. It was part of the routine, and Vegeta was grateful for once he didn't have to tend to the boy's wounds as well. Although not having any help on the battlefield had left him worse for wear, and it was clear from the guilt on Trunk's young face that he felt partially responsible for his father's poor condition. Still they both knew it could have been worse.

"So," Vegeta said clearing his throat as he took on his customary awkward tone of trying to figure out how being casually social worked, "How's that blasted machine of her's coming along?"

There was a familiar glimmer of excitement in the boy's eyes as his smile lit up like a star. Unless it was related to the training room, Vegeta rarely took much interest in the projects Trunks' tinkered with. Repairing a Polaroid camera, or fixing up an irrigation system so they could have a rudimentary farm for helping the surrounding towns food supply wasn't exactly the sort of thing to hold the older Saiyan warrior's attention. This new project though was far more complex, and above all else, it had started with the discovery of Bulma's rough blueprints for a machine with the potential to save mankind. If all worked according to plan, it was in theory a vessel that could travel through time and prevent this whole mess from ever having occurred.

"I made real progress today thanks to the supplies you brought back the other day! Come and see!" The young man shouted excitedly as he tugged at his father's hand like he used to as a little kid, pulling him eagerly towards the lab. "I made a few minor modifications, but the frame is nearly complete!"

A few modifications seemed a bit of an understatement as Vegeta took in the sight of the skeletal structure of the machine cradling the already complete engine. He hadn't ever been able to make heads or tails out of Bulma's engineering, but he had studied the drawings enough to know that the original ship plans had been for a craft nearly half the size of what his son was now building. At this rate they'd have to go on a second scavenging trip to find enough materials to finish the outer hull.

"It's bigger" He stated plainly as he walked up to the bulking frame.

"It had to be." Trunks said with a proud grin, "Mom's original was designed to have only one passenger, the main pilot."

Vegeta glanced at the dismantled haul of a capsule corp brand hovercraft sitting to the side of the new machine. The interior had been stripped and fitted into the time machine's main compartment, which had in turn been extended to accommodate the two leather seats. "You've built yours to fit two." He noted with a frown.

"Well yeah" Trunks said looking a bit perplexed by his father's somber tone. "It wasn't like I was just going to build a time machine and leave you here on your own, Papa."

While Trunks would never say it, he had been getting increasingly worried about his father these days. The androids had never been easy to deal with, but at least when they'd had Gohan to help it had seemed manageable. Or perhaps that had been his youthful naivety talking, and their life had always been this precarious a dance with death. Still, it was apparent more than ever with each battle that Vegeta returned from, that the Saiyan Prince wasn't going to survive much more of this routine. Dark sunken eyes that had always looked so defiant in the face of exhaustion were wearier than they'd ever been and tanned skin puckered with decades of combat was now so marred it was hard to tell the scars apart from each other anymore. Tightly strung muscles were leaner than they should have been from lack of proper nutrition and that once thick flame of hair was thinning with age. The past twenty years had not been particularly kind to Vegeta, though he insisted it didn't bother him since life had never been all that kind to him to begin with. When Trunks had found the blueprints to the time machine, he had seen the potential to reverse the damage done to his home world, but he had also seen the potential to save his father's life.

"I'll see if I can find you more scrap metal tomorrow after training." Vegeta said with a slight twitch of a smile, as he assured himself that damned boy had gotten that softness from his mother.

"You can take a day's rest you know." Trunks suggested, "Let your wounds have some time to heal-"

"I've survived far worse Boy, and you know it." Vegeta cut him off with a smirk, though the confidence in it felt hallow. Most his wounds today were superficial. They'd merely been toying with him. It wasn't lost on him that he had once toyed with his own quarry in such ways when he knew he could easily have slaughtered them on the spot, just so that he could make things a bit more entertaining. That entertainment had never lasted long though and always gave way to the urge to deliver a swift and painful death. He knew his was coming soon. He could only hope that it would buy Trunks enough time to finish the time machine.


	2. Part 2

_Author Warning: Feels… this half of the story is full of them. I apologize in advance if I make anyone cry. I tried to warn you… the foreshadowing in the last chapter was heavy… but everyone kept asking for more, so here we go! All aboard The Feels Train! Choo choo!_

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His hand smeared thick black oil over his face as he rubbed the sweat from his brow, but Trunks didn't care as he stepped back to admire his finished time machine. After the past few years of working on it, he'd been making what he called 'the final adjustments' for weeks now, but this morning he'd finally achieved his first test run of the machine and successfully piloted the ship back in time. Well, he hadn't exactly done it yet, but a future him had. It'd shocked the hell out of him when the second ship appeared with another version of him inside. The other Trunks and his machine had only materialized for a moment. The alternate him inside waved and gave a small almost sad looking smile before blinking back out of existence, presumably back to his own time. Even though he'd yet to climb in the machine and do the test himself, it was incredibly encouraging that his future self had been wearing the same clothes, and even the same oily smear on his forehead that he had now. That meant today was the day. Today him and dad were getting out of this hell and going back in time to save the world.

As if on cue the static of the intercom system hissed to life as his father's voice came barking over it demanding he come let him into the vault. Despite being nearly thirty, Trunks ran up the vault's safety corridors, unlocking each level of security with the eager bouncing steps of a ten year old who'd just been told they were getting a present. He couldn't wait to show father that the machine was finally working! His excitement was so palpable that his ki was flickering with sparks of gold.

That excitement came crashing down like a firm kick to the gut when he opened the door. He smelt the pungent copper of blood before the rest of his senses kicked in.

 _Alive_ \- His panicked brain reminded him as he took in the sight of his father crumpled leaning by the intercom. Vegeta was alive, his dark eyes glaring up through a face gritted in pain, but he looked hardly better than a blood soaked corpse. Androids don't bleed, so that meant it was all his own blood.

"Papa!" Trunks shouted as he knelt by the older man's side, trying frantically to assess where all that blood was coming from.

"Get me inside first boy." Vegeta's voice was hoarse and his words were punctuated with a gruesome cough. "Can't walk..." he paused to growl, if it was in pain or annoyance it was hard to tell, "Carry me."

Doing as told, Trunks carefully lifted his father into his arms, trying not to cause more pain as he shifted his weight. Each safety level of the vault closing behind them felt as heavy as a coffin's lid slamming. Gnawing on his bottom lip with worry was all Trunks could do to hold back the sting of hot tears in his eyes and the bile threatening to rise in his throat from the smell of death that clung to his father as he carried him. When they made it down to the bunker's main room Trunks lay Vegeta down on his bed before running to find the medical kit, although he knew it likely wouldn't be enough.

"Boy" Vegeta called out, though the effort sent him into another hacking fit as his lungs struggled to remember how to breathe. "Don't bother. Second cupboard there's- hg- false wall. Last bean. Hid it in there."

He'd nearly ripped the cupboard to shreds with his strength pulling the backboard out of it in a scramble to find that tiny dried up senzu bean. It didn't look like much and Trunks worried it might be too old and shrivelled to work, but he rushed to feed it to his father anyways. It took a moment but the healing magic seemed to start to set in as Vegeta's breathing settled and the pain eased from his face.

"Get something to clean the blood up." Vegeta instructed when he had enough strength back to speak again.

"I didn't know we still had a senzu bean left." Trunks said as he returned with a small basin of water and a rag. "I thought... I thought we used them all trying to save Gohan."

"You nearly fed the whole lot to that boy's corpse trying to bring him back from the grave." Vegeta sighed as he wrung the blood soaked cloth out and returned to wiping his skin clean. "I kept that one hidden in case of an emergency."

There was a moment of silence as Trunks choked on the memory of his friend's death. Aside from his father, Gohan had been the only other family he'd ever had. He'd always thought it would be the three of them together forever; their own little dysfunctional pack of saiyans, doing whatever they could to keep the human race going as the androids slowly tore the planet to pieces. When they'd lost Gohan to the androids it had been a hard reality for Trunks to swallow. All that uncontrollable sorrow and rage had triggered his first super saiyan transformation.

Today he had nearly lost father. That bitter thought sunk in, and Trunks didn't bother to care when Vegeta barked in surprise as he was suddenly engulfed in a tight hug. After a moment, his father set down the cleaning cloth so he could return the gesture, a firm calloused hand running through long lavender hair. Trunks wasn't sure what he'd have done if he'd had to face that death when they were so close to making it out of this timeline's hell.

"The time machine!" Trunks shouted suddenly as he sprung to his feet, remembering his previous joy, "It's working! I tested it out this morning!"

"You did what?" there was a perplexed mixture of anger and excitement in Vegeta's voice.

"Well not me, me. Another me. A me that did a test run- which I suppose I really ought to do as well, just in case the casual loop theory is correct, but more importantly it clearly already worked!" the boy rambled excitedly.

"Boy, I don't think you've ever sounded more like your mother than you do right now." his father laughed, returning Trunks' enthusiasm with a weary smile as he slowly got his feet. That senzu bean had done wonders putting him back together. It was a shame they didn't have any more. "Alright, let's have a look at the blasted bucket of bolts that's supposed to save our asses now that it's finally done."

They hadn't made it halfway to the bunker's laboratory before the intercom crackled to life, the sound halting them both in their tracks.

"I'm telling you this is a waste of time" an all too familiar young man's voice complained in the background of the intercom's static.

"I'm tired of playing games." Android 18's voice hissed in reply before leaning into the microphone so she could be heard better "Vegeta, we know you're in there. I'm willing to bet that bastard of yours who's been missing from the action lately is too. You have to the count of three to get out here or we're breaking down these doors."

Vegeta let out a string of colourful sounding alien curses as he realized he must have led them back here when he'd assumed they'd left him for dead. He turned to Trunks and saw the clear panic in the boy's eyes as the android's voice started the count.

"One" it was like a mechanical sigh.

"How long do you need to get that machine running?" Vegeta asked as he glanced back at the vault doors. They were strong and would buy them some time, but even he was certain with enough force he could break them down. The Androids would have no problem blasting through them.

"A couple minutes, I still need to set the coordinates." Trunks said already running to the time machine.

"Two" it sounded more like the tick of an engine shifting gears.

The hatch to the machine opened and Trunks turned to help his father climb in, still unsure if the senzu bean had fully worked, but Vegeta wasn't at his side. "Father!"

"Get in that machine. Now." Vegeta instructed, not taking his eyes off the vault door.

"I won't leave without you" Trunks insisted as he climbed into the machine, though as the words came out he already knew that he may have to break that promise. Glancing to a small photo taped to the dashboard with their pre-decided destination date scribbled at the bottom Trunks started entering the coordinates.

"Three." the word was punctuated with a thunderous quake as the entire bunker shook.

He'd nearly finished putting in the date, when Trunks had suddenly remembered that morning. The thought of the other Trunks inside the machine with that sad smile forced him to retype the coordinates. If he didn't go back, he wouldn't have known the machine worked. It would be just a quick pit stop before the real trip. Although as he typed it, he knew what it meant. He'd seen it just that morning, but been too thrilled with the success of the machine to understand the implications. Trunks had been alone. His fingers lingered on the final key, hesitant to type what would surely be a death sentence for his own father who stood at the bunker doors awaiting the androids.

A second quake thundered through the bunker. That left one more door. Vegeta's posture sunk into a battle stance as ki gathered in his palms.

"Trunks" he called out as he took one last glance over his shoulder at the time machine that his son had built. "When you get to the past, make sure you protect your mother better than I did. That's an order, you hear me, Boy?"

"Yes Papa." the weight of finishing inputting the coordinates crushed the words out of him. Shutting his eyes tight, Trunks hit the machine's ignition just as the bunker shook with the impact of both the android's attack and Vegeta's fully charged final flash.

In a dissected fraction of a second, the world blinked from existence. The sensation of being free from the confines of time was overwhelming, but as fast as it happened, it ceased and the world flickered back. As if on autopilot he smiled and waved down to his former self before hastily typing in the coordinates that were written in his father's messy handwriting on the photograph taped to the dashboard. As he jumped back out of time, he stared at that old worn Polaroid snapshot that he'd made Gohan take all those years ago. He was just a child in that photo, although for the split second of being outside of time, it almost felt as if he could just slip back into that moment of youth. The memory's echo of Gohan's laughter made Trunks laugh as felt himself bounce excitedly around the cot his father sat grumpily on. "Smile for the camera Papa!" He heard himself say with a giggle as his father flipped off the repaired Polaroid Gohan held pointed at them.

The moment vanished with the flash of the camera as he snapped back into the time stream. The machine churning to a halt as it landed in a desert. For a moment he thought he'd made a mistake. Was he still too late? Was this was just another timeline torn to pieces by those robotic monsters?

It took a moment for the time travelling sensory deprivation to release him from its grasp, and with its release his ability to sense ki returned. Hot fresh tears broke before he'd even turned to see the group of mostly strangers standing amongst the desert rubble. He could barely make any of them out from this distance but his senses clung onto the power levels of the much younger versions of Gohan and his father like a lifeline. "Still alive..." Trunks sighed with relief as he climbed out of the time machine.

The large spaceship that had landed just moments before his arrival dared to suggest that this would not be the case for long. With a smirk Trunks wiped the tears from his eyes before flying towards the galactic space lord's ship. His hair was already golden before he'd landed, for he knew he'd spare no mercy on this battle.

 _"Why that day Father?" Trunks asked as he watched Vegeta scribble down a precise date and time on the photograph._

 _"If I'm going back in time to save this stupid world," Vegeta explained with a smirk, "I'm going to enjoy going back to the day Kakarot killed Frieza and taking back the revenge I so rightly deserved that day."_

"You must be Frieza. I've been waiting a long time for the day I'd get to meet you." Trunks greeted as he landed at the scrambling feet of the terrified cyborg lizard.

"But you- no, you're not him. But you- you're a Super Saiyan? How can that be?"

"My name is Trunks." he said with a smile as he gathered his own version of his father's final attack in his hands, "Vegeta sends his regards."


End file.
